The afternoon performance had passed without a hitch.
While there were many town people there the greater part
of the audience, which nearly filled the big tent, was
composed of visitors from the country.

Great applause greeted the performances of Phil Forrest and
Teddy Tucker, but the two Circus Boys were saving their best
efforts for the evening performance when all their friends
would be present.

Mrs. Cahill, after her tumble, had been picked up by the lads
who insisted that she shake the trunk of Emperor before he left
the lawn. And now that she had seen the afternoon show, taking
a motherly pride in the performance of her boys, as she proudly
called them, the kindhearted woman sat down to a meal in the
cook tent, which proved one of the most interesting experiences
of her life.

As the hour for the evening performance approached there was an
unusual bustle in the dressing tent. By this time the whole show
had taken a keen interest in the affairs of the Circus Boys, who
had been known to the performers--at least, to most of them--for
the past two years.

Teddy had paid sundry mysterious visits to the horse tent, and
held numerous confidential conversations with the equestrian
director, all of which was supposed to have been unknown to
Mr. Sparling, the owner of the show.

But, while Teddy was nursing his secret, Mr. Sparling also was
keeping one of his own, one which was to be a great surprise to
the two Circus Boys.

The first surprise was given when the clowns came out for their
first entry. Lining up in front of the reserved seats, where
the high school boys and girls sat, they sang a song in which
they brought in the names of every member of Phil's class.
This elicited roars of laughter from the spectators, while
the school boys and girls waved their crimson and white class
flags wildly.

The whole class was there as the guests of the management of
the show. This was one of Mr. Sparling's surprises, but not
the only one he was to give them that night.

Next came the leaping act, somersaulting from a springboard and
in the end jumping over the herd of elephants. Teddy was so
effectively disguised by his clown makeup that, for some time,
the class did not recognize him. When finally they did, through
some familiar gesture of his own, the boys and girls set up a
perfect howl of delight in which the audience joined with
enthusiastic applause, for Teddy, with all his clumsy ways,
was one of the best tumblers in the show. He had developed
marvelously since the close of the show the fall before.

Never had Teddy tumbled as he did that night. He took so many
chances that Mr. Sparling, who was on the side lines, shouted a
word of caution to him.

In answer to the warning, Teddy took a long running start and
did a double turn in the air, over the backs of the elephants,
landing plump into the waiting arms of a bevy of painted clowns,
the spectators evincing their appreciation by shouting out
Teddy's name.

Teddy's chest swelled with pride as he waved his hand and shook
his head as if to say: "Oh, that's nothing! You ought to see me
when I'm really working."

The band played on and the show moved along with a merry medley
of daring deeds and furious fun from the clowns.

At last, in response to the command of the ringmaster's whistle,
the band ceased playing and silence fell over the tent as the
ringmaster raised his hand for silence.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said. "The next act will be a
bareback riding feat unexcelled in any show in the world.
In ring No. 1 the famous equestrienne, Little Dimples, will
entertain you with her Desperate, Daring Dips of Death that
defy imitation. In ring No. 2 you will recognize a fellow
townsman--a townsboy, I should say. It will not be necessary
for me to mention his name. Suffice it to say that, although
he has been riding for less than a year, he has already risen
to the enviable position of being one of the foremost bareback
riders of the sawdust arena. I think that's all I have to say.
Your friends will do the rest."

The ringmaster waved his hand to the band, which instantly blared
forth and to its music Phil Forrest tripped lightly down the
concourse, being obliged to go three-fourths of its length to
get to the ring where he was to perform.

His journey led him right past the grandstand seats where his
admiring school fellows were sitting, or rather standing. As a
matter of fact, every one of them had risen to his feet by this
time and was shouting out Phil's name.

As he drew nearer they began to chant, keeping time with his
footsteps and the music of the band:

He had no intention of doing so. He had a few tricks that he was
going to show his friends, and incidentally surprise Mr. Sparling
himself, for Phil, who now owned his own ring horse, had been
practicing in secret all winter on the act that he was going to
attempt for the first time in public that evening.

Discarding his slippers and chalking the bottoms of his riding
pumps, Phil began his act by riding standing on the rump of
his mount, to get his equilibrium and his confidence at the
same time.

Then the lad began throwing himself into his work, which
increased in speed as the moments passed, until his supple,
slender body was flashing here and there on the back of the
handsome gray, causing the eyes of the spectators fairly to ache
in their efforts to keep track of him.

The people voiced their excitement by yells of approval and howls
of delight.

"My, but that boy can ride!" muttered Mr. Sparling, who had been
watching the act critically. "In fact, I should like to know
what he cannot do. If he had to do so, he could run this show
fully as well as can I--and perhaps better at that," added the
showman, with a grin.

Now the band struck up the music for the concluding number of
the act.

"I wonder what he has up his sleeve," mused Mr. Sparling
shrewdly, suspecting that Phil was about to try something he had
never done in the ring before. "I hope he won't take any long
chances, for I can't afford to have anything happen to my little
star performer."

As a matter of fact both Phil and Teddy Tucker had become star
performers, and were so featured on the circus bills, where
their pictures had been placed for this, their third season out.
The year before they had appeared on the small bills in the shop
windows, but now they had the satisfaction of seeing themselves
portrayed in life-size on the big boards.

Phil sent his ring horse forward at a lively gait, which grew
faster and faster, as he sat lightly on the animal's rump, urging
it along.

All at once he bounded to his feet, poised an instant, then threw
himself into a succession of handsprings until he resembled a
whirling pink and gold wheel.

This was a new act in the circus world, and such of the other
performers as were under the big top at the moment paused to
watch it.

No one was more surprised than Mr. Sparling himself. He knew
what a difficult feat it was that the Circus Boy had not only
essayed, but succeeded in doing. Phil kept it up at such length,
and with such stubborn persistence, that the owner of the show
feared lest the lad, in his dizziness might get a bad fall.

Doing a series of such rapid handsprings on the level ground is
calculated to make a performer's head swim. But how much more
difficult such an effort is on the slippery back of a moving
horse may well be imagined.

Finally, red of face, panting, breathless, Phil Forrest alighted
on his feet, well back on the ring horse's rump.

"I think so," came the faint reply that was instantly drowned in
the great uproar.

But the lad wavered a little after the ringmaster had released
his grip. Steadying himself quickly, Phil pulled on his slippers
and walked slowly from the ring, dizzy, but happy with the shouts
of his school fellows ringing in his ears.

A donkey, long-eared, long-haired, dirty and unkempt trotted into
the ring and spun about like a top for a full minute.

On the ludicrous-looking beast's back sat a boy in the makeup of
a blackface clown. In his mouth was a harmonica, that he played
lustily, as he sat facing to the rear with his back toward the
donkey's head.

At that moment something else was observable. Instead of
traveling head first, as any self-respecting donkey is supposed
to do, this particular donkey was walking backwards. Yes, he was
galloping backwards.

The instant the audience noted that, their cheers changed to
howls of delight. The clown was Teddy Tucker, and the donkey
was the surprise he had been storing up for this very occasion.
While the audience laughed and jeered, Mr. Sparling looked on in
surprise not unmixed with amazement. Here was the very thing he
had been looking for, but had been unable thus far to find.

"It's a winner!" he cried, as Teddy Tucker and his strange mount
ambled by him in a gait such as never had been seen in a sawdust
arena before.

Right around the arena traveled boy and donkey. When opposite
the grandstand seats, where the high school students were
sitting, Teddy nearly drove them wild by drawing out the class
colors which he had been hiding under his coat.

In a shrill, high-pitched voice he gave utterance to the high
school class yell, which was instantly taken up by the class and
eventually by the spectators themselves, until all seemed near
the verge of hysterics.

Phil, instead of proceeding directly to the dressing tent, had
waited by the bandstand to watch the new act of his companion,
and he, with others of the performers, was laughing heartily as
he leaned against the bandstand. Teddy knew he made a funny
appearance, but just how ludicrous he could have little idea.

"Whose donkey is that?" demanded Mr. Sparling, hurrying up just
as Phil and the other circus folks were congratulating the lad.